Experimental Laptop Art, Packs of Dogs, and Broadway

SOUTHBURY, CT

My computer plummeted off the subwoofer of our entertainment system on the bus. Every time I use it, I peer around and through four black streaks on the screen. It looks like a Pollock painting. Hopefully it won’t cost as much as a Pollock to repair.

When I last wrote I was in Miami gazing upon beautiful Latina women and sipping an iced chai. Now I am in the Southbury Public Library surrounded by citizens of Heritage Village who are learning to use the Internet and playing cribbage. Talk about culture shock.

The remainder of our tour was phenomenal. The band and I are thrilled we are able to play for such diverse crowds and still be received with genuine enthusiasm. While in South Beach we supported an awesome Latin/Reggae band named Xperimento at Jazid. I was a bit uneasy prior to our performance since it was our first time playing for this demographic. Hindsight being 20-20, there was nothing to be nervous about. Daniel, the owner of Jazid made a valid point, and one that every musician loves to hear: “Good music is good music. It doesn’t matter what the crowd is.” If ever in South Beach, I recommend you skip the clubs that make it seem like they’re doing you a favor by letting you in, and leave a line around the corner when there are only 15 people in their club; head to Jazid (21+). They don’t worry about image or which band will bring the most people. You can always count on a good hang and great music when you enter their establishment. It’s a shame more clubs don’t operate that way.

The shows at Boar’s Head in Athens and Prince Deli in Knoxville were a lot of fun as well, especially considering UGA was about to hold their commencement the next day. I’d love to chronicle the night, but to be honest; I don’t remember a whole lot of it. That Friday was Bryan’s (tour manager) birthday. The band killed a pint of Jack and a case of Summer Ale before we even got to the show (reminder: we have a drive who drives the bus). I recall the entire show including inviting the owner of the club up to perform “No Woman, No Cry” in which Floyd, Omer, and I switched instruments. (Floyd jumped on drums, Omer on bass, and me on keys.) I remember some very supportive fans traveling 2 ½ hours to see our show. After we packed up and said our goodnights, the evening gets patchy. While at the after-party at our friend Shannon’s, we tapped into a bunch of what seemed like homemade booze. She had to agree to dog-sit three dogs as well. There were already two dogs in the apartment: Bella-a mutt (maybe part Shepard?), and Isabel (my overly enthusiastic, super-charged Pit Bull). A fully-grown Doberman pinscher, Dalmatian, and Golden retriever puppy were added to the mix. Her home reminded me of the turkey scene in A Christmas Story.

Prince Deli in Knoxville and our shows in St. Louis were great as usual. These are two scenes that have been extremely supportive of us from the beginning. We’ll keep going back to these cities over and over again. No crazy stories. Just a $330 vet bill since Izzy picked up some sort of sickness in Athens. Her doctor visits cost more than mine.

Now that we’re home, I’ve been working 12-hour days on the album and putting together two BIG tours coming up in the fall. One is going to be soooooo insane! I really wish I could spill the $*@!^#* details, but I’ll contain myself (for once). Yesterday, a bunch of friends of mine laid down some background vocals in NYC. Two of them have “done time” on Broadway in shows including Cabaret, Little Shop of Horrors, Hairspray and more. My theatre agent, Kevin and friend Marissa Perry came by the studio to hang out while we were working on “Sit Tight.” Danny (producer) and I got $45 haircuts (ridiculous. I feel bad for you ladies.), and then headed to see Marissa starring as Tracy Turnblad in Hairspray. Go see her if you get the chance. She was wonderful!

That’s all for now. Heading out for a run before going to my childhood friend, Mike’s stag. Sure that should yield a story or two…

As always, thanks for reading. Sorry to be so short, I just need to do something healthy before abusing my body later this evening. Hope you enjoy the clip of “Train” below. It was recorded during a radio interview on KDHX FM in St. Louis.

-Jeff

"You're all adults..." says Officer Cash

This tour has been ridiculous! I have never spent so much time being grateful for what I do. The Atlantic Ocean is crashing on the beach in front of me. The rest of the day will be spent here followed by some stellar cuisine, hitting the town to meet with current and (hopefully) future fans and cheering for Barack Obama in the Indiana and North Carolina primaries. I am eager to take-in inspiring imagery for lyrics to the song “Palm Trees and Flamingos,” which is on the upcoming album. It’s a Steely Dan/Cock Rock inspired tune about a fellow well past his prime who solicits the company of shallow, beautiful women through offers of drugs, designer clothing and the high life. Fun right?

The highlight of this tour thus far is our Saturday performance @ SunFest in West Palm Beach. It might be the best show we have ever played with an estimated 3,000-5,000 in attendance for our set. The festival provided the opportunity to preview a bunch of tunes from the new record with a talented horn section, while also revisiting selections from Breaking Down the Silence, and a cover of Faces’ “Stay With Me” thrown in for good measure. I want to thank Rick Blake and the entire SunFest staff including security, West Palm Beach Police, and the phenomenal sound engineers. Of course, I also want to express my deepest appreciation to everyone who came to the merchandise tent to introduce yourselves and take some photos. We can’t wait to see you all again when we return! (PS- Send those photos of your friends and band members to info [at] jefftuohy [dot] com so we can throw them up on Myspace and Facebook!)

Natasha Bedingfield took the stage afterwards. Our crew had a chance to hear her impressive voice and tight band before sprinting to see my favorite group, The Black Crowes on the WaMu Stage. Chris Robinson still remains one of my biggest vocal influences. Damn, did he sound great! I recommend their new album- Warpaint, especially the tune “Oh Josephine.”

I was ecstatic to reconnect with some friends from Connecticut while in West Palm. It is such a satisfying feeling to meet up with old friends in new places. This is probably why the end of Shawshank Redemption always makes me cry. A barbecue, a set by Matisyahu, ridiculous fireworks displays, and a night out at Bradley’s on Sunday put the finishing touches on an amazing time in West Palm Beach.

The low point of the tour was our bus being searched for four hours by the Virginia State Police. Our apologies to fans in Georgia who were left band-less thanks to “Virginia’s Finest.” We’ll make it up to you when we play Athens this Friday :). I believe the initial officer must have become aroused when he saw a 1977 (though newly refurbished inside) GMC tour bus barreling down the road at a whopping 60 MPH. Not having much to go on, except for stereotypes and profiling, he pulled us over because our “window tints were too dark.” When he heard we were a band on tour, he began an intense search for pounds of drugs…he came up short.

The concert the night before @ Grog and Tankard was a success, especially for a Wednesday night. We played to an audience that included: members of a kickball team, citizens of Germany, and members of a local band called, Knives Out. Our nation’s capitol has been a difficult scene to build for us, but we’re finally getting somewhere thanks to the venue’s support, especially Herb (thanks, bro!) We look forward to playing there again and again to fuller and fuller rooms.

An older fan said our ensemble reminded him of the band, XTC due to the diversity in song styles. I have heard of this band from raiding my Uncle Jim’s compact disc library; a collection that spawned my interest in: Steely Dan, Oingo Boingo, Toad the Wet Sprocket, James Taylor, Frank Zappa, and Spyro Gyra. I remember being in sixth grade and borrowing the Grateful Dead’s, Skeletons in the Closet. As a punk-ass middle school-er, I was into heavy metal. When I saw a skeleton, I assumed the album was going to have wailing guitars, head splitting drums, and a screaming lead singer. They did have the word “dead” in their name, after all. You can imagine my disappointment when “The Golden Road (to Unlimited Devotion)” came out of the speakers. Wow, I have really gone off subject here. To the point, I’ll be borrowing some XTC next time I visit Tom’s River, NJ.

The Beachside Tavern in New Smyrna, FL was a rowdy gig. Every time we’re there, we stay a sick beachside condominium. I ended up jumping in the ocean (again) after our three hour set. This is moronic for two reasons: 1) New Smyrna is allegedly the shark attack capitol of the United States with upwards of 80 attacks a year (from what I’ve heard), 2) The last time I did this I dove and pile-drove my head into a sand bank @ three in the morning resulting in me playing the rest of the tour on emergency-room- doctor-prescribed (ERDP) muscle relaxers with a stiff neck and back. This further proves a college education and the ability to rent a car does not remove the potential of being an idiot.

In closing, I would like to advocate for free podcasts featuring author and spiritual teacher, Eckhart Tolle, and super-duper respected TV woman, Oprah Winfrey. They are available on iTunes and cover topics addressed in his bestsellers, The Power of Now and A New Earth. Tolle’s work strives to create present moment awareness, referencing teachings from history’s most respected spiritual leaders (JC, Buddha, Mohammed, etc.) It might not be for everyone, but it certainly has enhanced my appreciation for all life has to offer by creating awareness and freeing the mind of useless traffic. If I can do it, anyone can. Trust.

Please stay in touch and feel free to comment. Hope you enjoy the footage of “Bourbon Street” from our SunFest set!

-Jeff

Silence of the Spirit House Studios

I am sitting in the kitchen of Spirit House Studios in Northampton, MA. It’s 1:52 AM and I have decided to write this Blog entry instead of watching another episode of Six Feet Under; most likely the best show to have ever appeared on television. It’s been so long since writing one of these. I don’t even know where to start…

Danny Bernini and I have been co-producing what I consider to be my strongest set of songs yet, which is good because regression is a bitch. That being said, something tells me many artists feel their newest work is finest, but we all know this is not the case. If it were, we would hear a lot more patrons shouting for “No Ring, No Gets” and “Complicated” at Poison and Bon Jovi concerts, respectively.

Danny has worked with acts ranging from Notorious B.I.G. and Puff Daddy to Robert Palmer and Stryper. He recently worked with Martin Sexton, who, at the moment, happens to be one of my favorite performers. We have 14-15 songs down, so it’s safe to say something will be cut.

We’ve been fortunate to have some very talented musicians join the sessions including: Terry Adams (NRBQ), Lenny Pickett (Tower of Power, SNL), Jon Graboff (Ryan Adams and the Cardinals), and Josh Dion. The album also features performances from Omer, Floyd, and Jeremy (band members whom you’ve most likely met during our visits to your city). The album will be completed in late June with a projected release for mid-autumn.

While recording the album, I was involved in a show called Yesterday and Today. The premise of the show was as follows: a band of seven learned the entire Beatles catalogue. Audience members would arrive at the theater and put in their requests for the evening. A set list was then formed based on their requests. Preparation was nerve wracking. It’s not easy to memorize 208 songs, several of which contain similar chord progressions, stream of conscience lyrics, and varied time signatures. The outcome was rewarding. I was not the biggest Beatles fan prior to the experience. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t hate them, I was just not a super-fan. That has changed. Committing their incredible works to memory was a master class lesson in songwriting.
Aside from learning these tunes and having a great time, I chipped my tooth on a microphone and had a panic attack in front of 300 people.

While singing the Lennon part of “Drive My Car” I had a weird thought, “Billy (co-star) is going to sing the third verse second today.” I don’t know why I thought that. He had never done it before. Anyway, he actually DID do this and though I was prepared with the harmony, I was so shocked that I turned my head into my Shure 58 and took a hunk out of my left central incisor. This is not the first time I have had this experience. I had this tooth bonded three years ago from a similar incident involving a microphone. Damn.

As for the panic attack, I have no clue what happened. It could have been the whole recording an album, doing six Beatles shows a week, and booking a May tour “thing.” I had been experiencing these moments of anxiety during the previous week. Ever had that feeling? Like you’re going to have a heart attack accompanied by sweaty palms, dizziness, blah, blah, blah? It sucks.

So, I’m standing on stage playing “Dear Prudence” when all of sudden I feel like I am going to faint. I’ve yet to do so in my life, but the thought of my first time being on a stage in front of 350 people was slightly upsetting. The audience saw me smiling singing my favorite Beatles song, but inside my head, my brain was screaming, “Run!!!! Get off the fucking stage!!! You’re going to faint onto your Taylor guitar in front of a full theater…etc, etc.” The fact that I was up to sing lead on the next three songs was of no comfort either. Right before I was about to tell the bass player Matt he had to sing my next three songs, I told myself, “No. You’re staying on this stage and finishing these tunes and if you pass out, tough shit.” I made it through the first act and told Billy what was going on. He advised I start giving myself some down time through out the week to relax. I agreed, walked outside and called the Green Parrot in Key West, FL to see if they would be interested in setting up a show on May 9th and 10th. I deserve to have panic attacks.

We’ll be heading out on the aforementioned tour shortly. I’ll keep you posted on things as they develop. I also plan to memoir the Fall 2007 tour as soon as I get a hot minute. Trust me, there is a good tale or two to spin from that one. As always, thanks for reading.

-Jeff

Muppets, Surfing, Cinnamon, and more!

It looks as though Floyd (our bass player) has set us up with a bus driver for this autumn’s tour. His name is Marc, but his friends call him “Krash.” Should I be disturbed by this development? A superstitious person might shy away from such a chauffeur, but for some reason I like the idea of having a bus driver named Krash. It’s very Muppet Movie. Nonetheless, when introduced to my mother, he will be introduced as “Marc.”

The record company bought us a tour bus. It looks dope from the pictures on the Internet. The mechanic we hired to give it the once-over said it is ready to roll cross-country with a brand new transmission, spotless interior and functioning tires. All it needs is shocks. I believe shocks are important, so we’ll be looking into that. The owner prior named the automobile “Relations.” Not sure why it would be named that, so just in case, I will be doing a thorough inspection (with ultra-blue light) of all cushions, carpets and mattresses. You can never be too sure…

The last month-and-a-half has included trips to Vermont, San Diego, western Florida, and ridiculous driving days to make three gigs within 24 hours.

Back in July, we had the pleasure of playing the Jackson Gore Music Series at Okemo Mountain Resort. While setting-up for the night’s outdoor festivities, an ominous rain cloud hovered overhead. I stared it down for an entire ten minutes as if to intimidate it from precipitating. The cloud obeyed my wishes and the three-hour concert went on without a problem. It was nice to meet new fans of many different ages afterwards at our merchandise table. The band later made fun of me for tying Izzy to the table during the show, pointing out that leashing an excitable pit bull pup to our product stand might not be the best way to attract customers…

After the show, we went to Christopher’s in Ludlow and sang karaoke with partying locals. Late night celebrations continued at the band condo, where we drooled over its location- right next to a lift. The condo must be worth thousands during the season. I can’t wait to go snowboarding again.

San Diego was a quick trip in which I surfed at Ocean Beach, scarfed down a burger at Hodad’s, and recorded a quick, solo-acoustic set at Lestat’s. Lestat’s is a hipster coffee joint that, aside from lattes, has served-up some of San Diego’s finest singer/songwriters (Gregory Page, Carlos Olmeda, and Jason Mraz to name a few). I will be returning there with the Bush League Band on Sunday, October 28^th. Should be a fun, all-ages show. Hopefully, I will get to visit Tijuana while we’re out there.

My trip to Panama City Beach, FL was for a weekend of shows with my friends, Sex Toy Party (yeah, you read that right). The ensemble includes Floyd, Jon B (from my Concrete Jungle days), and Tommy Diehl (formerly of Acoustic Junction and Spookie Daly Pride). We performed three nights at the United States’ largest nightclub- La Vela.

My favorite part about performing with this band, aside from wearing full-bodied asbestos suits and seating my ass off, was their “Wheel of Misfortune.” Between songs the band would invite audience members up to take a spin with options that range from removing articles of clothing to winning free alcoholic beverages for you and your friends. Insanity.

The band house was a dump with holes in the wall, torn couch covers, and a mildew stench that permeated all of my belongings by the time we left. Thank God we spent most of our time out of the house partying with locals. After the first night, the band went home and I went out about town with some of the La Vela staff. There was an establishment that was a liquor store/bar. I couldn’t believe it. I was dumbfounded. It’s like “Here, in case you haven’t gotten tossed enough with us this evening, take home a bottle of Goldschlager.” They even had a drive-thru!!!

Two humiliating incidents happened while on this trip. Now, most people would not admit these kinds of things for fear of looking un-cool. However, I consider laughing at one self to be of the coolest nature, so let the stories commence…

Story Number 1:

While dining at a restaurant serving alligator bites, I made a bet with Floyd and his girlfriend, Audrey. I challenged them to consume six Saltines within one minute without any liquid aid. (In case any readers are unaware, it is nearly impossible to do this. No matter how you approach the task, the crackers end up cementing in your mouth; making it extremely difficult to swallow.) As predicted, their efforts were futile.

While watching me gloat in my rightness, a waitress challenged me to shoot a glass of cinnamon. Being a lover of the spice, I obliged. She prepared the shot in what I considered to be a large plastic cup. You know, one of the ones in which they serve you ketchup (yum) and BBQ sauce. Hardly an ounce shot. More like two ounces, at least. Regardless, I sized up the challenge a slammed the container’s contents.

Puff! I cough out a quarter of the cinnamon and reach for the nearest glass of water, which only makes the situation worse. The seasoning turns into a thick paste blocking all paths through which air reaches my bronchi. I rush to the restroom with the sounds of my band mates laughing in the distance. Once I reach the men’s room I begin purging my mouth of the death beverage with my fingers. Tears in my eyes, my digits frantically remove the caked substance from my cheeks and throat. All I could think of was my future reputation. Stevie Ray Vaughan dies in a helicopter crash, Jimi Hendrix of a drug overdose. I would be dying on a bathroom floor from downing too much cinnamon.

In the end, everything worked out. I still tipped my waitress and my throat felt well by the time I got back to New York.

Moral: Only do this to someone you really hate.

Story Number 2:

I blew out a flip-flop. I was not in Margaritaville. I was in the band house on the stairs wearing a towel after taking a shower. Jonny B was in the living room and I was singing in the style of Placido Domingo. The flip-flop gave way and I tumbled down the stairs in my birthday suit; really not much more to that story.

Thank you for reading this overdue and cleverly pre-dated blog which began in August and somehow, just came to my attention.

Gearin Up..

Isabel, my pit bull puppy, will not stop gnawing at my hand. I’ve tried to explain I need it for playing guitar and 1,000 other everyday things I like having my hand for, but I don’t think she understands English. Perhaps another language would be more appropriate. She scared the crap out of some lady with a kick me dog today, when we were walking along the Hudson River (the same one Billy Joel sings about in “New York State of Mind”). I don’t know why. Maybe she knows her dog looks like a delightful snack.

In all seriousness though, Izzy is way to cute to give an impression of danger. People are ignorant about the breed. I cringe every time there’s a report of an APBT (American Pit Bull Terrier) attacking a small child or middle-aged woman. The breed is cited by many sources (that are not rap songs) as being the most-friendly breed of dog. It’s true. No bad dogs, just bad owners.

I am back in NYC after performing in the Buddy Holly Story in Connecticut, playing a bunch of gigs, and taking random trips to New Hampshire. I love being back here. In the past 25 years, I have come to the conclusion I require constant stimulation and Manhattan always comes through with just that: music, plays, members of Terror Squad shooting people after arguing with them at my favorite restaurant…

I believe I came the closest I’ve ever been to getting mugged while strutting home from the gym the other day. I was walking back from New York Sports Club at 2 AM when a very scary man approached me. Now, I NEVER walk with headphones on since doing so would be like walking through a wolf den with a lamb chop fastened to my ass. Therefore, I was very conscious of my surroundings. As I looked at the ground I saw a shadow getting uncomfortably close to mine. I immediately turned around to face the portentous individual. He got right up in my face and exclaimed, “You lookin’ for me tough guy?!”

To which I replied, “No” (I was telling the truth).

Just as I was ready to attempt to bust this guy in the grill he said, “Well alright then!” and WALKED AWAY.

What was the point of that entire interaction?

Before returning, I had the opportunity to do some real great stuff: get my Actor’s Equity card, visit Walden Pond after our gig in Boston, and open for Tim Reynolds among other things.

I received my Actor’s Equity card as a result of my participation in the Buddy Holly Story. I was so humbled by the talent of the individuals with whom I shared the stage. Nearly every member could act, dance, sing, and competently play at least one instrument. And man, could they party. Wow. In the six, short weeks spent together, we got into a rumble in a gay bar, played “Never Have I Ever” in a classy, hotel lounge, and threw a dance party at a local watering hole where the mean age of the group was about 70. It was like a scene out of the movie Awakenings. There was a point when the ENTIRE bar led a conga line out the front door, around the establishment, and in through the back door. Men who normally would have been shooting out of their cars stopped in absolute astonishment and proceeded to cheer us on. I miss the cast dearly and hope I cross paths with all of them in future theater endeavors.

The day after my Boston gig at Hennessy’s, my pal Josh and I took a trip to Walden Pond. It really is a beautiful place, though I was disappointed by one small fact: the cabin in which most of Walden was written was a mere thirty-minute walk from his parents’ house. I was always under the impression that he was at least an hour into the wilderness. Still a great piece of literature, still a beautiful place, just a bit disappointing.

Immediately following our trip, I saw Ryan Adams in concert at the Somerville Theater. It was incredible. I highly recommend the majority of his catalogue to anyone and everyone.

The gigs have been fun.

Boston saw me opening for one of my favorite keyboardists, Nate Wilson. Nate was a founder of the group Percy Hill and now fronts a great band appropriately named, The Nate Wilson Group.

The opening stint continued as I played a solo acoustic set before famed Dave Matthews guitarist, Tim Reynolds in Hartford. I was a bit disappointed with the audience during his set. Many people were talking so loud that I could barely hear his playing. The one good thing I was able to take from that attribute was should that ever happen to me (as I’m sure it will), I will think, “Well, they did it to Tim Reynolds too.” That being said, he handled it very well and busted out his jaw-dropping techniques.

I’ll be making my way to San Diego soon for some business meetings and surf (Hopefully an equal balance of both). Thanks for checking in. I’ll keep you posted from the West Coast.

-Jeff